Rusty watched her go, a strange tingling singing in his blood. She wasn’t remarkably beautiful, but in the sudden patch of moonlight that had fallen on her before she turned away from where he was hiding, she’d looked ethereal. Haunting. Ghostly, almost. A woman, he knew immediately, with steel in her blood.

A woman he wanted to know more about.

He followed her, carefully picking his way among the underbrush as he kept hidden while paralleling her path. There was something about her that drew him. Obviously, she was human—he scented only her light flowery perfume. Jasmine, he thought. There wasn’t a hint of anything supernatural about her, and yet . . . and yet there was something drawing him to her and her to the town.

He had thought for just a moment that she’d spotted him. The way she’d walked toward the forest’s edge as if she sought something, perhaps him, had him holding his breath until she hesitated and moved back and then down the road.

Her car must have been the one he’d heard earlier. He watched as she headed toward town. If she intended to walk the six miles, he would have to follow her the whole way. There were creatures in the woods tonight, creatures that she shouldn’t come across. Her disappearance might be hard to explain.

He padded softly ahead of her, making sure nothing crossed her path. Most of the forest creatures, sensing his presence, had already gone to ground, but it wasn’t the usual beasts he worried about. It was the unusual. The kind the town might have a hard time explaining if something happened to her.

He sent out a silent prayer that no one but him would be out tonight. He hadn’t sensed anyone, but one never knew who might decide this was a good time to go out and about in the woods on their way to a feeding or other assignation. Sometimes the high school shifter kids were brought out here for lessons on their crafts and legacies. He hadn’t seen any of the witches, vampires, other shifters, or their children out in the woods in quite a while, but that meant nothing.

So lost in thought was he that he missed when the woman he followed stopped in the road. She was adjusting a shoe that seemed to have come loose. He grinned, noting that her shoes were definitely not the kind you wore for a long walk, and wondered why she hadn’t changed them when she’d put on her sweatshirt.

Watching the moon’s shadow as it disappeared behind the gathering clouds, Rusty silently cursed. Lifting his nose, he whimpered slightly at the change in the smell of the wind. The storm was not far off now.

This woman had better hurry, or she would be on the road when the bad weather hit. The wind smelled of cold air and bitter snow. This was not going to be a quick storm. He had a feeling it would hit hard when it came.

He watched the woman shiver. Maybe she felt the storm coming, too? She looked up, and a few seconds later, she began walking again, this time a little quicker.

Without realizing he was doing it, he quickened his steps to keep close to her and stepped on a branch. The crack of the broken twig reverberated through the woods like a gunshot, and the woman whirled around, the flashlight’s beam brushing over the top of the bush under which he had taken shelter.

He narrowed his eyes until they were nearly closed to keep their gleam from lighting when the flashlight crossed over and around the bush. The woman did not move any closer, but he could tell she was nervous by the way she kept jabbing the beam of light here and there in a scattershot attempt to see if anything was there.

He crouched down, barely breathing, opening his eyes just a slit to see when she moved on. As she moved away, her scent grew fainter and he found himself increasing his movements to match hers.

After a few moments of pacing closer and then away from the forest’s edge, the woman began walking toward town again, this time faster than before. He cursed himself for his carelessness. The last thing he wanted to do was alarm her.

He sped up to keep pace with her, bounding over fallen logs and landing soft-footed on the path. This went on for at least a mile before the woman slowed. Her exhaustion was showing. He wished he could change back, reassure her she was doing the right thing in heading into town, but if she was afraid of an invisible creature in the dark, he was certain his naked form would scare her even more, and he had no clothes hidden in this part of the woods to change into if he shifted back to his human shape.

No, he would have to continue to watch her, at least until he could change to more suitable attire than his birthday suit to greet her.

He observed her as she walked. She was cautious, glancing left and right as she kept up a pace that might have exhausted others, but seemed to keep her invigorated. He grinned in spite of himself. She was feisty, he would give her that.

It was obvious she was afraid, but she wasn’t giving in to it. Other women in her situation might have cried or carried on, or made comments about their plight, but she never uttered a word. She kept moving at a pace that would require a predator to reveal themselves, in shoes that were most likely uncomfortable in the office, and on this surface, must be killing her.

He chuckled, which in his wolf form came out more as a thin growl, as she stopped to check her shoe. She jerked her head up when a long thin howl caused her to freeze.

Drat! Rusty thought, whipping his head around. Who is out here in the woods playing games? He didn’t recognize the howl or the one that answered it. His first duty was to the forest, but he knew, looking over at the woman who was frozen in place, that he couldn’t abandon her, either.

Had someone seen her? Was someone going to cause her harm? Not in his woods. But where had that sound come from? He raised his head above the underbrush, instinct to protect the forest overcoming his need for secrecy, and sniffed. He moved onto the road to get a clear view of the forest and down the road, forgetting momentarily that she was also in the road and now had a clear view of him.

Nothing. He couldn’t smell a thing out of the ordinary. The rich loam of the forest filled his nostrils, mixed with vegetation, the faint odors of animals, and the girl’s strong flowery scent.

The scream from behind shocked him.

He whirled around, his teeth bared, ready for battle to defend his property, when the beam of light struck him in the face. The girl screamed again and threw the flashlight in his direction, hitting him on the edge of his nose.

He howled in pain. The most sensitive part of his body was his nose after all, and her aim had been perfect. He howled again, and she screamed, then ran for the edge of the forest and disappeared into the thick brush.

He heard her screaming as she crashed through the vegetation at a speed not safe for the darkness of the night, and he cursed silently.

By the Moon! He howled. Instead of running into the woods, why didn’t she keep running down the road? And why did she throw her flashlight instead of keeping it? Foolish, foolish, foolish.

Even as he thought it, he was giving chase. Just as he rounded a large boulder, he found her on the faint path made by deer crossing the valley. The trail was barely more than a thin ribbon of dirt bordering the side of a hill, but the human girl stood in it, pointing a large stick at him. On one side of her was a rise of land that came up to her shoulders; on the other was air as the land dropped off into a small tree- and rock-lined trench. In rainy weather, there was a stream that rushed through that trench, but right now there was nothing but debris in it. He’d crossed it earlier in his nightly rounds.

“Stay back, you beast,” she threatened, stabbing at him with the stick for emphasis. “I might be little, but I know how to use this.”

He chuckled again at the sight of the disheveled woman standing before him, holding the stick for all the world as if it would stop him.

She blanched at the sound of his chuckle, which to her ears must sound like a growl, and he saw the stick falter.

He wasn’t sure what to do now. If he advanced toward her, he was pretty sure one of two things would happen. She would either stab him, or she would faint. Neither was an appealing prospect.

He decided the best course of action was to slowly back away, pretend his wolf pride hadn’t been hurt by this little slip of a trembling woman with the big stick, and continue to follow her until she arrived safely in town. He could find out who the transgressing wolf was later on. His priority was her safety.

He realized suddenly that even if the first priority wasn’t to ensure her safety, that was what he would do. The townhad wanted her here—he was certain of it. He didn’t know why, but Havenwood Falls periodically drew people in for reasons of its own.

He started backing up, his soft brown eyes meeting her terrified blue ones, and for just an instant, he saw a reaction in them that wasn’t fear, but rather something indefinable like recognition. He felt the same flash of familiarity as if he knew her. But how could he? Where would he have met her before?

His heart pounded being this close to her. He was overpowered by her scent masked by her fear. He felt he knew her on a level that went beyond mere sight. She was his. His paw stopped mid-step. That was it. She was his.

This was his mate?

This was the woman he’d been waiting for?

A human?

How was this possible? Yes, he’d asked the moon goddess for his mate, but . . . her?

Overhead, a crack of thunder sounded as if to agree with his realization. Then the rain came, cold, wet, and full of the promise of thicker moisture later. The girl, startled by the sudden onslaught, slipped.

With a delicate Oh of surprise, she disappeared over the side of the trail.

Rusty stared in shock for just a second, then bounded to the edge she’d fallen over.

She was nowhere to be seen.

The storm had swallowed her.